


Quiet Moments

by MooseKababs



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Cuddling, Drunk Kissing, Fluff, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Sex, gen - Freeform, how the fuck do you tag fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8545759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseKababs/pseuds/MooseKababs
Summary: ''M o s t   n i g h t s  they still fall into the same berth together, wrapped comfortably in each other's embrace as the night turns to day and their next shifts approach, and really that's all Swerve can ask for. He just wants this equilibrium between them to keep holding up, because for once this is a stalemate he can really get behind."
Swerve ruminates on his relationship with Skids. Promt: Skids/Swerve "Quiet Moments, @theultimateowl on twitter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, feel free to tell me if you notice any mistakes!

They both live busy lives, Swerve knows. They both have duty shifts, and Swerve has the bar, and between every little thing they do apart the time they spend together becomes fewer, farther between. Most nights they still fall into the same berth together, wrapped comfortably in each other's embrace as the night turns to day and their next shifts approach, and really that's all Swerve can ask for. He just wants this equilibrium between them to keep holding up, because for once this is a stalemate he can really get behind. They don't  _ need _ to constantly frag one another into the berth to be happy; really, they don't need to frag at all. They just need this.

 

The thoughts fight him though, because tangling in one another as they rest (or in Swerve's case, occasionally think through the night) is not all they share. Skids is not ashamed of him, like a reluctant crush or a dirty secret. He gladly-- when they find the time, when they're  _ together _ \-- makes a spectacle out of encouraging the bartender's snorting laughter and baiting out his wide smiles. He doesn't mind leading the minibot by the hand, holding him, leaning across the bar for a kiss when he delivers a pick-me-up cube half way through Swerve’s shift. He doesn't shy away from the hooting and the hollering-- or  _ didn't _ , the one time Swerve drank himself into a stumbling, giggling, clingy mess and the theoretician had to abdicate the bartender personally, and Swerve had wrapped his arms around Skids neck and simply kissed him for a minute and a half straight, long and deep. It was the only time Swerve had ever been so forward, and after he saw the footage he felt like he could never show his face in the bar again. Skids had simply taken him by the hand and seen him in, lingering in the doorway like a parent on the first day of school as Swerve relieved whoever was tending on the first shift and took over for the night.

 

There were little things, to that effect; sharing their fuel breaks when they matched up, going to the washrack together, cleaning, spending time together in simple silence. Skids never made him feel bad if he wanted to do something with someone else in his free time, like hanging out with Tailgate, and in turn he never felt jealous when Skids spent time with someone else. The fact of the matter, though, was that it  _ was _ the little things; quiet moments when Swerve’s head would be bent over his ledger and Skids would be reading, and their helms would nearly be touching but they would sit in a comfortable silence and work. Times when Swerve would laugh until he knew the sound must be becoming grating and he would apologize around a snort only for Skids to attack him with fingers intent on invoking more of the same sound, telling him softly,  _ honestly _ that he loved Swerve’s laugh. Nights when the bar was closed and Swerve would mix drinks for the other to test, and Skids would take even the bad ones with a smile.

 

It was the quiet moments, though, that Swerve loved the most. Things that, when he saw them between other couples, it never crossed his mind how important they were. Not always too physical, too amorous-- just entirely  _ Skids _ and solely for him. They’d find time to make a movie night together and Skids would twine his fingers into the minibot's, look at him and  _ smile _ , and it was enough. The moments before truly waking, when Skids was resenting having to leave his berth and mumbling his exaggerated hatred to the world just to get Swerve to smile drowsily at him. The moments of peace when they had time before bed to tangle in one another in a different way, in a way that was slow and meaningful, and Skids would look Swerve in the visor-- he could always tell where the minibot was looking even with it on-- and he would tilt their forehelms together and he would whisper “ _ I love you,”  _ and Swerve would come undone at the seams and feel so enormously stupid for  _ crying _ , but he couldn't think of anything else to do while he took the other’s hand to kiss and whispered back, “ _ I love you, too _ .” 

 

They were busy, yes-- but they were together, and in the quiet moments, when Swerve was settled in Skids’ lap dozing peacefully after a long day of work and a longer night of thought, Swerve knew that it would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like it, leave a comment so I can blubber back like a true asshole :3c


End file.
